


A Civil Union

by neichan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 20,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neichan/pseuds/neichan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To cement a treaty of peace after the war, two of the combatants must marry.<br/>And of course JKR owns Harry, Lucius and the Wizarding World.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Title:A Civil Union, Chapter One

 

 

"Certainly not." I leaned back comfortably in my favorite leather chair. I regarded the group of representatives from the Ministry of Magic with mild distaste. "I am neither a pedophile, nor am I a homosexual. Your proposal is out of the question."

 

"Mr. Potter is not a child any longer, Mr. Malfoy. He has reached the age of eighteen." The man who had chosen himself to be the group's spokesperson told me with a satisfied smirk. As if he'd told me something I didn't already know.

 

I glared at the man. "Be that as it may, I am still decades older than the young man. And the gender issue remains. It would seem you have a few choices. Change the treaty to eliminate the marriage requirement, fore-go the treaty altogether, or get someone else to take part in this travesty of a union."

 

"But, sir, you and Potter were the most powerful of the members who fought on opposite sides of the battle, to join the two of you would give the appearance of true reconciliation. The treaty would have a real chance of success." The man speaking swallowed and looked towards the rest of the group, three nervous but determined looking women of various heights and shapes. They nodded vigorously at him, apparently agreeing with his assessment, I wondered if they'd rehearsed. One of them took heart from the exchanged look and spoke up. It was nothing unexpected.

 

"On the subject of gender, sir, it is well known that you have a number of young wizards you keep company with." Her expression was triumphant as if she'd caught me out in a lie, as usual she hadn't a clue about the reality of the situation. I ground my teeth to keep from telling her just that in less than polite terms. My reply was far more carefully worded than my thoughts on the subject.

 

"What ever you believe that you know has no relevance to this situation. It is no doubt erroneous. Suffice to say, I am telling you the truth when I tell you I am not homosexual." I was angry, and fought to keep it off my face, fought to keep my expression neutral. Deep breath in...and out. 

 

Some one had talked without permission. I liked my private life to be private. Another reason not to get involved with this fiasco. The publicity would be voracious, and humiliating. I stood. The members of the group leaned back as one, two of the women raising clutching hands to their breast. 

 

I never understand why everyone expects me to be shorter than I am. They all react like this, shrinking back when I finally stand and they have to look up, and up, to meet my eyes. I made sure I stayed behind the desk. It would not do to have one of the gentle souls faint. I gestured helpfully towards the door to my outer office.

 

"This interview has reached its end. Please see yourselves out," I told the four with firm courtesy. I discretely pressed the button to alert my secretary they were coming out of the main office and into the reception area. The tenacious young man was not ready to concede. He squared his rounded shoulders and stepped forward with admirable determination.

 

"Mr. Malfoy." He riffled through the papers he held in his plump hands. I pride myself in keeping in shape, his puffy hands bothered me. I did not want him to touch me. He made a small sound of pleasure, and thrust a sheaf of papers at me. Then he followed the ladies out. 

 

Roberts, my personal secretary stood in the doorway while I read the pages. I pulled my half glasses out from the breast pocket of my coat and set them on my nose. My vision was not as good as it had been. My eyes no longer responded to healing spells. I don't know why. I have required reading glasses for sixteen months now. I peered at the papers.

 

The law firm header was prominently displayed. The inclusion of all my titles was next, followed by the ubiquitous, Dear Sir,.... Then I got a shock. This was a court order. I was being compelled to marry, Mr. Harry James Potter at a date set by the court. I had thirteen hours to appeal. The order was timed twelve hours and fifty nine minutes ago. I looked up at the clock and stood without recourse, as the numbers flipped over, and just like that I was out of time.

 

ne'ichan


	2. Two

Normally, I enjoy the short walk home from the office. Today, with the fine snow falling, was the kind of day I looked forward to walking that one mile with Roberts at my side. The new court order had put a damper on my mood. I was not rude, but close to it. Roberts nevertheless bravely took my arm and we set out bundled in hats, boots, long coats, full winter gear.

I scowled and offered Roberts little more than grunts in reply to his cheerful conversation. He gently tried to prise more information from me about the order. I had nothing more to offer. Back in the office I had let him read the pages I'd been given, and that was the extent of what I knew. Tomorrow we'd wake a judge from his Saturday morning bed, and find out if I had any chance of beating the order.

What was it with court orders and my life?

The first court decree I received had come from the Council on Wizardry and Witchcraft. I had each word memorized. I read the decree each day for the initial six months it was in force. I could recite it line by line if need be.

"...by order of the CoWW...blah, blah...the subject of this declaration, Lucius Malfoy, shall conform to these rules and regulations or be remanded into the custody of the prison at Azkaban.

"Of the first point: Lucius Malfoy shall reside with the Keepers/Companions selected by this body. The Keepers/Companions referred to in the following as Companions, are Mr. Benjamin Charles, auror, and Mr. Tobias Roberts, auror."

"Of the second point: At least one of the said Companions will be in close proximity to Lucius Malfoy at all times while the subject is conducting business, remaining within ten meters.

Of the third point: At least one of the said Companions shall be in attendance at the shared residence if the subject is at the location. If any person other than the subject and his mandated Companions are also in the residence, one or more Companion(s) must be within ten meters of the subject.

Of the fourth point: In situations deemed both public and social, at least one Companion must be within one meter of the subject.

Of the fifth point: In situations of an intimate nature, one Companion must remain in direct physical contact with the subject at all times. Situations of an intimate nature are defined as...," and the list went on in excruciating detail. I'd been both impressed and appalled at the imagination of the lawyer who wrote the point.

Point number five should make it clear why I had determined it necessary to remain celibate for the time since the order had gone into effect.The list of points continued.

"Of the sixth point:The subject will not apparate without the accompaniment of one or more Companion(s).

Of the seventh point: The subject will not procure a wand for purposes of magic.

Of the eighth point: The subject shall be limited to simple magics conducted without the aid of a wand.

Of the ninth point: The subject shall not join any groups or organizations for the purpose of conducting magical acts.

Of the tenth point: The subject shall be required to report for monthly exam by a medi-witch or medi-wizard selected by this Council and shall be required to support the cost of such services. 

Of the eleventh point: The subject shall be required to avoid contact with vulnerable or untrained witches or wizards, or if such contact is unavoidable, the subject shall be required to maintain direct physical contact with one or more of the Companion(s) listed above. Vulnerable persons are defined as...."

I was a magical wild card. There was no better way to put it. Something, probably the out of control discharge of magicks during the last days of the war, had stolen my ability to direct and control my personal magic. When I lifted my wand anything could happen, from a perfect spell, to absolute disaster. To make matters worse, I drained others of their magic, becoming a reservoir of seething power looking for a way out. The magic I gathered tended to release without warning, with explosive results. Having a wand made it worse. The wands would burst, becoming mini bombs, magically charged splinters are no laughing matter.

The order went on for a total of thirty-one points. My life carefully defined and curtailed. In the control of the CoWW. Now some imbecile wanted to force me into a situation that would disrupt all that. And that was quite likely in conflict with the first order which kept me out of Azkaban.

The mere idea of being close to a wizard as powerful as Harry Potter still was terrified me. If I sucked his power off and it discharged, the explosion was going to be catastrophic. Being the first order was under seal, the judge handing down the marriage order had no way of knowing of the terms. A can of worms.

I sighed as we approached the modest yellow and white house on Canon Street. Benjamin had lit the lamps.

Warm gold light glowed from the many windows and out onto the walk in front of the house. I almost broke down and said, "Ahhhh." At the homey picture presented. But, I was feeling churlish. Roberts and I went up the steps and into the mudroom. We took off the outer layers, shook off the light dusting of snow, stomped our feet clean, and proceeded to the kitchen.

At the end of the day we habitually gathered in the kitchen for a cup of tea and a chat on the days events. With the three of us crowded around the rough table, with tea and snacks at hand, Roberts told the other man about the day. I propped my feet up and ate and drank while the talk wound around me, and listened to what they, my Companions, could to do about the new order.

I couldn't help but think it had been a hell of a lot of trouble to go to to set the trap. Just to see to it I married Potter. Lots of effort with little gain. 

I looked around. At the warm and welcoming kitchen, at my conferring Companions. I wondered why some one was out to upset my comfortable life. And whether or not they knew that upsetting it was so very dangerous.


	3. Three

It was Benjamin's turn to sleep in my bed. He came to bed with his loose pajama bottoms on and his top unbuttoned, the edges flapping open as he moved, revealing his strong brown chest. Once in the warmth of the bed, he always took the top off. 

If I turned over in the night, seeking comfort and contact, we'd discovered my agitation decreased far more rapidly if I could touch skin. Being able to put my hand on him quickly might also make the difference between me getting rid of the magic with a touch, or setting a pillow or the duvet on fire. I was dressed for bed in my full flannels. Didn't matter if my skin was covered or not.

He took the right side of the bed, the side towards the door, sliding under the thick covers. In the unlikely case anyone should enter, then Benjamin would be between me and them. With all the wards and seals on the building, I doubted anyone was going to find a way inside the house, let alone the bedroom, but my Companions were nothing if not thorough.

He turned his back to me, and with the ease of what was now years of habit, I moved up to spoon him from behind. My embarrassment at sleeping with another man in my arms had long since dissipated. I sighed in relief, my hand going to rest on his bare stomach. Tension flowed out of my body along with the excesses of other peoples magic I'd accumulated over the day. It all moved from me into the auror in my arms. I snuggled closer and closed my eyes, my breath ruffling his hair as I drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Benjamin was younger than Roberts or I. Strong and well built, shorter than myself at just six feet, with light brown skin, amber brown eyes, short brown hair that lay thick and flat to his head with only the faintest wave defeating his comb. Very soft, clean smelling hair. He'd been a general auror for fifteen years. Now he was my own personal auror. My guardian to keep me safe from others, and even more, to keep others safe from me. 

He had an unusual talent, he could soak up and digest surplus magic. He was exactly what I needed. What eased my pain and distress, invigorated him. An added benefit for him was, he could use the magic he gained from me. Roberts had the same ability. That was the reason they were selected for me. My babysitters. Lucky for all of us, they'd also become friends.

I hadn't liked being dependent on the two of them. I wasn't a man who like casual touching. I learned to accept touch from my Companions, because if I didn't, I'd have a permanent apartment in Azkaban, and that was worse than snuggling in bed with two other men. Besides, it felt good when the excess magic was drained away. No weight holding my limbs down, no tightness in my chest, no premonition of doom. I touched one of the aurors, and I could breathe again. So, I adapted.

 

The day had been awful. Typically, Mondays were my favorite day. Really, they were. A new start for a new week. Possibilities abound. Not this Monday. 

My first visitor was the young man himself, the 'Boy Who Lived'. Naturally he believed I had engineered the marriage thing. He yelled, cursed and threw a tantrum in the outer office, the inner office, the outer office again, then sat, fuming in the inner office and let me try to explain to his outraged face what little I knew. 

Roberts coming in to help me explain with his calm competence, was the only reason Potter left half-believing what I said might be true. I gave him my solicitor's card. He threatened to contact the lawyer, eyes on fire with indignation. I encouraged him to do so.

I had forgotten how handsome the boy was. His mussed hair and smoldering green/hazel eyes. His pursed lips, and finely shaped nose. He looked like his beautiful mother, and his father, just a little bit. He'd inherited both of their best traits. His skin was clear, he was still too thin, wasn't anyone feeding the child? I wondered what he was doing now that Hogwarts and Voldemort were distant memories. I asked Roberts to find out.

The rest of the day was only a bit better. My solicitor called to ask for permission to discuss my case with one Harry Potter who was in his private waiting room in a state of considerable agitation. I gave my permission, with the caveat Potter sign the confidentiality clause. I did want to do what I could to keep from being the talk of the Wizarding world. 

The judge who had promised to do what he could on Saturday, called to say he'd done what he could, and that was absolutely nothing. The court order was to remain in force, despite it's conflicts with the first order. No, I was not permitted to disclose the first order without written authorization from the Council on Wizardry and Witchcraft. No, they did not agree that they should provide me with the authorization. I would have to marry Mr. Potter on December twelfth, sorry old man.

I did manage to close a lucrative deal with Gringotts. The day wasn't a total loss.


	4. Four

Roberts' POV

 

I recognized him right away. 

I mean who wouldn't recognize the 'Boy Who Lived'? I'd seen more photos of him than of Lucius, Dumbledore, Voldemort's dead body...you get the picture. Any witch or wizard over the age of three knew who Harry Potter was, could pick him out of a crowd. Even without the scar.

He was of medium height, a good six inches shorter than myself, thin, too thin, and adorable. He was also very young.

Hmmm. Didn't expect to have myself thinking like that now, did I? But, with that wild, curly, brown mop of hair, big green (or are they hazel?) eyes, and his temper flying around, he was eye-catching. Attention grabbing. The color rode high on his sharp cheekbones. The strong tenor voice, even raised in anger was compelling, as if you'd like to sit and listen. If he wasn't yelling so loud as to make your ears ring. And the power, it rolled off of him, leaking out like he had more than he'd ever need or could ever use. It washed out over me like a wave of the finest wine, the smoothest cream, the hottest....Yes, well. Hmmm.

He wouldn't have a seat, wouldn't wait to be announced, wouldn't let me usher him into the privacy of Lucuis' office, wouldn't hold still. He ranted and shouted, bounced, hopped, and accused. The others waiting for their business appointments were rapt. This was going to be good gossip, the absolute best. They'd be able to dine on free meals for a week, maybe a month, with this to share as dinner conversation.

Harry Potter introduced himself into Lucius' office without so much as a knock, the man inside trying to talk to Malfoy was struck dumb by the human whirlwind. He sat gape-mouthed as the tirade continued, then spiraled up a notch further. The man was frozen, incapable of moving to save his life.

Lucius stood, moved to keep the desk between himself and Potter, tried to talk, tried to calm, tried to soothe with words. Wise of him not to try to touch the young man. Potter would have nothing so civilized as polite conversation happen. Not yet. 

He moved back out into the main waiting area, arms gesturing in short choppy movements, eyes burning with unmistakable rage. Where all the occupants were still staring, briefcases forgotten, papers spilling to the floor from nerveless fingers. Every mouth an 'O' of astonishment, too soon for glee.

Then, just as quickly, barging back into Lucius' office, bending over the desk, shouting the same accusations, as well as a few new ones. I entered the office with Potter this time, pulled out the chair and guided him to it, firmly seating him in it with a solid hand set on his slender shoulder, a little muscle there. I recalled that he'd been quite a Quidditch player in school at Hogwarts. The other client, I guided out only just keeping him from tripping over his own feet.

Potter spared me not one glance. I stepped briefly into the reception area to be sure all was well, all eyes were on the door to the office, no one was moving other than a general leaning forward. I retreated, closing the door firmly behind me and went to meet Harry Potter. I had always heard he was a mild boy, and not much different as a young man. Shy. A most unlikely hero. Clearly that was not the true case.


	5. Five

Lucius was ignoring the work going on around him, playing hooky in his own office. He was reading the file on Harry Potter that Roberts had complied at his request. Potter was living a far different life than Lucius expected. 

Harry Potter was an astro/psychologist. He counseled other wizards and witches who had undergone traumatic events. And he did well. He had a waiting list of several months. His practice combined divination and psychology. He specialized in the use of astrology. Using the movements and positions of the planets to guide his choice of therapy. Lucius found the revelation rather unexpected and startling. 

Harry Potter had been one of the greatest battle wizards ever born. His power was legendary, he was legendary, the fight he'd fought was legendary. And he chose not to fight. Not to enforce laws, though all had said he should be an auror. Harry had chosen a different way. He'd chosen to heal. He'd chosen once again to be an original, entirely unpredictable. Lucius poured over the rest of the file, glancing guiltily up at the clock every once in a while. But he couldn't tear himself away.

 

Benjamin glanced at the clock, frowning. Roberts and Lucius should be at the office for another few hours. He wasn't expecting any company, or deliveries. He debated on whether to ignore the summons to the front door or not. The knock was repeated, louder this time, with a kind of authority that insisted on attention. The auror dried his hands on his apron and went to see who was at the door.

The slim young man standing on the stoop was windswept, his hair blowing and wild around his head, longish hair, but not far past his chin, his gloved hands tried to keep it out of his eyes without much success. The glasses were much the same as those he'd worn as a child, the glasses always in need of repair then, now unmarred. He cleared his throat. The falling mist of drizzle dotted his coat and his long, long eyelashes.

The eyes, more vibrantly green than any the auror had seen before, looked at him with a penetrating stare. They took in every detail of the man in formal black trousers, highly polished shoes, pressed white shirt with sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, the broad shoulders, the muscular arms, tanned skin, powerful wrists, ramrod straight posture, and the frilly white apron billowing around him.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter. May I come in?" The young man said, his voice like cream, lush and thick and rich. The richest, youthful tenor. 

"Of course." Benjamin made a snap decision, moving back to permit the man to enter. "Come in to the kitchen. I have hot tea and buns fresh from the oven. There's a fire in the grate. Lucius and Tobias like something baked to eat when they get home, and somewhere warm to eat it."

"Thank you." The young man stepped into the house. Benjamin took his coat and hung it near the radiator to dry. Harry waited and followed the taller man when he moved off down the corridor. They sat at the big kitchen table, Benjamin pouring for both of them in large mugs, then offering milk and sugar. He set out the sweet buns, still steaming, and a crock of soft butter. 

Taking a seat across from the other man, he busied his hands with his own sweet bun and tea. He was filled with curiosity, but managed to stop himself from asking a barrage of questions before Potter was ready to talk. The bun, when he bit into it was perfect, succulent, sweet, warm and flaky. A hint of vanilla and a touch of lemon, a tinge of honey only enhanced by an application of fresh butter. He closed his eyes for a moment in approval as he chewed the first bite. Savored it.

The fragrant tea hit the spot, Benjamin heard a deep sigh from his visitor. Saw the tensed shoulders relax. The lines around the expressive mouth smooth out. Another sigh. Benjamin offered another of the buns.

"They are best right out of the oven." He said. Harry Potter reached out and accepted the treat. His fingers were long and thin, graceful. Artistic and fragile looking. They did not look strong enough to have wielded the wand that killed Voldemort. 

Benjamin beamed as Harry ate with obvious relish. I should have been someone's mom, Benjamin thought happily. So much of a charge as he got out of feeding people. They munched on in companionable silence for at least a quarter of an hour. 

"I've come to ask you about Lucius Malfoy. I've heard more rumors about him these last days than I care to repeat. They can't all be true. I'd like to find out which ones are the truth and which ones are pure crap." Harry stated baldly. He reached into a pocket and drew out a crumpled sheet of parchment. "I've written down the questions I want answered. I can't decide which rumors I want to be true. Some are very intriguing." His eyes sparkled.

Benjamin felt his brows shoot for his hairline as he reached out to take the paper.


	6. Six

"Well, you've really done it now." Roberts said, taking the sock off Lucius' throbbing, painful foot. He knelt on the floor, supporting the foot Lucius was gingerly holding up off the floor. "What happened?"

"Twisted it, hey! That hurts!" Lucius winced, wiggling in the chair as his auror/Companion examined the already swelling limb. He didn't admit out loud that he'd been too busy reading about Harry Potter to watch where he was going. He'd tripped over his own wastebasket. Knowledgeable fingers skimmed over the bruises, moved the ankle cautiously, prodded and probed, watching Lucius for his reactions carefully.

"A sprain, I'd say, uncomfortable but not too serious. When we get home Benjamin and I will take care of it." Roberts said. "In the meantime keep it elevated, I'll get some ice." He stood, tugging the most padded of the client chairs near. He carefully set the injured limb on the seat. Unspoken between the two men was the understanding that Roberts didn't want to risk using healing magic on Lucius without his fellow auror at his side to monitor Lucius and the magic used.

 

That evening after the office closed, they apparated instead of walked to the house. Lucius' arm looped over Roberts' shoulder, instead of the usual hand on his elbow.

They apparated straight into the kitchen. The two men already sitting down at the table having tea and conversation jumped at the unexpected appearance. Benjamin's cup clattering to the tabletop.

Lucius was shocked to recognize the visitor who sat at his kitchen table with Benjamin, a half eaten sweet bun clutched in his fingers. The delicious smells in the air had Lucius' mouth watering even as Roberts helped settle him in a chair. Benjamin stood at once moving to his housemates' side, wiping his sticky fingers clean on his apron.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"A simple sprained ankle. Hello, Mr. Potter." Lucius replied, looking at the young man with newly interested eyes. All the things he'd read flitted through his mind. 

Roberts slid a cushion under Lucius' ankle, resettling a towel wrapped plastic bag of ice over the injured area. He and Roberts exchanged a look, both deciding without words to wait on the healing spells for a time with less company present.

"What brings you here, Mr. Potter?" Lucius asked their visitor as Benjamin brought plates and mugs for the new arrivals. He purposely pretended not to notice while the mothering Benjamin fussed over him, buttering the warm bun and mixing up Lucius' milky sweet tea perfectly as he liked it. He also pretended not to see Potter noticing and filing the little scene away. It was almost possible to see the wheels turning in the younger man's gifted observer's brain.

"I came to grill your man Benjamin here. About you. I spoke with your lawyer, and got the impression he was leaving out a lot more than he was telling me." Harry waved his parchment list in the hand that was not holding the sweet bun.

"And?" Lucius inquired mildly. "What have you learned so far?"

"Nothing. I think he's been stalling me with his cooking." Harry smiled, darting a mischievous look at Benjamin. "If he wasn't such a fine cook, it wouldn't have worked. Now you are here, so I can ask you. Get the facts first hand. Straight from the horses mouth. I have been hearing some pretty tall tales."

"Such as?" Lucius asked, nibbling distractedly on his bun, attempting to retain his composure.

"Oh, like you have a harem of young and comely wizards living with you to serve your every whim. And now that the bans have been published by those CoWW people...that I am just the next in a long line to serve your lustful needs." The calm young man answered drolly, a crooked smile on his lips.

Lucius nearly choked on his tea.


	7. Seven

"Well." Lucius said after he'd mopped up his tea with the napkin Benjamin handed him and allowed the Companion to refill his cup. "That much is true."

It was Potter's turn to sputter. Benjamin handed him a fresh napkin, too.

"Next question?" Lucius prompted, trying to hide his half smile and failing.

Potter looked suspiciously from one bland face to the other. He giggled. Then clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh. I never giggle," he said, not completely convincing. "You caught me right out with that one. OK. So, you do live with two other men. That part is true enough. The remaining question is...do you sleep with them?"

"Yes. We have a schedule set up. Tonight is Roberts' turn." Lucius answered truthfully. Waiting to see what kind of reaction that caused.

Harry peered at him suspiciously for a long time, green eyes narrowed. Then he leaned back in his chair. "My god, I think you are telling the truth. At least I don't think you are having me on." He said under his breath. Benjamin warmed his tea with a fresh pour, nudging the milk and honey closer. Harry absently fixed up his tea, mind clearly far busier than his hands.

"Fine. Uhm. Can we talk seriously about this? Because, I'd like to know what I am getting into. I don't think there is going to be any way to fight that court order. I think we are going to have to get married, much as I'd prefer to avoid it. Understanding this situation you have here, it is pretty important to me. We have to come to some sort of agreement, an arrangement. To do that, I need facts." Harry waved a hand around including everyone in the kitchen.

"Therein lies the rub." Roberts muttered, sourly, sharing another glance with his fellow auror. Benjamin shrugged, and moved over to the counter, where he began sorting the fresh vegetables laying out, waiting to be turned into dinner.

"It is not simple as that, Harry," Benjamin told him over his shoulder. "There's reasons we can't be upfront...."

"No." Lucius said. "He's right. He has a right to know. I can't keep it from him. We can't. He'll find out eventually, better to tell it all now."

Harry sat up straight. His eyes gleamed. "Oh, I like the sound of that. Something interesting is coming, I'd bet my hat on it. Well, talk away, I am listening. Avidly."

"Lucius." Roberts said softly. "There is the order..." Benjamin and he exchanged more fraught looks. Benjamin sighed and left the dinner preparations, heading back to the table, as Lucius argued.

"Is it reasonable to keep it from him? He's right, he is not the public. He is going to be my spouse, unless the lawyers can figure someway out of it, this ungodly mess." Lucius pressed. He ignored the second buttered sweet bun Benjamin placed on his plate. That wasn't going to distract him, not this time. His fingers flexed.

"What is going on?" Harry jumped in, looking from one face to the next.

"Lucius. We can't allow you to break the order." Benjamin told him, laying his hand on the taller man's arm. Lucius frowned at him.

"What order?" Harry persisted.

"Charles, do you expect me to not tell him? The consequences of him not being aware..." Lucius insisted, his frown growing darker.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked. Running a hand through his tumbled locks in a habitual gesture. He did it when he was excited, or frustrated. It accounted for why his hair was nearly always mussed and on end.

"Are not so bad as the consequences to you if you do tell him. Not until the order is lifted in regards to him." Roberts said reasonably, trying to soothe his friend.

"We've asked for the authorization, just for him, mind. Did it the first we heard of the marriage decree. Give it a few days." Benjamin added to the conversation.

"I've already been turned down. You know I asked." Lucius reminded the two men.

"Turned down? For what?" Harry broke in.

"It's us asking this time. We have some pull here. Be patient." Roberts told him leaning forward, meeting Lucius' eyes directly, intent. 

"Alright, what in Merlin's name is going on?" Harry snapped when it became clear he was being left out of something very important. "You'd best tell me, because court order or no, I am not getting into this marriage business without knowing what secrets are being kept from me. Right now, I'm thinking these are the kind of secrets I can't afford not knowing." He leaned forward, reaching out towards Lucius' arm.

Lucius jerked away. "No, don't touch me, Potter. You have it right. These are the kind of secrets you can't afford not to know."

At the same time Benjamin grabbed Harry's questing hand. "You mustn't touch him, Harry."

"What the hell is going on?" Harry yelled, temper getting the best of him. "Now I can't touch you? Why not? Are you asking me to believe you are saving yourself for marriage?"

"It seems I am not permitted to tell you." Lucius replied, irritably, struggling to his feet. He hissed as his foot touched the floor. Harry automatically reached out to help him, again.

"No!" Three voices shouted at once. Roberts interposed himself between Harry and Lucius. And Benjamin laid a restraining hand over Harry's arm. Lucius gripped the back of his chair to stay on his feet. His ankle throbbed.

"Ground rules, Mr. Potter. No touching Mr. Malfoy. Not unless one of us, Roberts or myself is touching him first. It's non-negotiable, we will tell you why, but not yet. Just accept it for now." Benjamin told the furious wizard.

"You will tell me. Just not now?" Harry growled out. "Fine. Is there anything you can tell me, besides don't touch him? 'Cause I got to tell you I am not liking any of this. There is something very, very wrong here."

Lucius waved a hand, swaying on his one usable foot. "You'll have to ask them. I am not allowed to decide what you can be told." His tone was frosty. He turned to cast an unfriendly look at Roberts. "Get me to bed, then I'd like some privacy. If you don't mind."

"Yes, sir." Roberts said, voice filled with intolerable understanding.


	8. Eight

Roberts had helped Lucius to get into bed, taking care of getting him to the bathroom and back without too much pain or pressure on his injury, retrieving his night clothes, and after, removing the laundry. He remained silent, not trying to force Lucius to speak. Then he had left.

An hour later, Benjamin brought a dinner tray up to his room and Lucius ate, reading his usually ignored copy of Wizard's Weekly. He also ignored the opportunity Benjamin tried to give him to break the icy correctness that had grown between them. 

"Sir, we should do the spell for your ankle now. I can go get Roberts..." The tall, tanned auror offered, standing beside the bed. His shoulders squared, quite upright.

"No, that is not necessary, Benjamin. Good night." Lucius told him, formally. Not looking up. Concentrating on his paper.

The bans were published, alright. Front page, above the fold. Complete with a spelled photo of Harry Potter and himself, Potter leaning against Lucius, a ridiculously smitten look on his face as he gazed up at the much taller, much older man. The picture shifted, showing him and Harry nuzzling lovingly. Hmmm. He was too irritated at the moment to explore the strange rush he felt at seeing the nuzzling.

It was Roberts who came to pick up the tray and help Lucius to the bathroom again. They were polite, but that was all, wasting no words. When he'd left, Lucius took the opportunity to do a small healing spell on himself. No wand, he thought bitterly. But the spell was adequate. He could limp around the room without the screaming agonies.

Roberts returned later, dressed in his bronze pajamas, the ones that made his blond hair shine, moving to put out the lights, his intentions clear, but Malfoy dismissed him with, "That will be all Roberts."

Roberts hesitated, an uncertain look on his handsome features. When Lucius stonily ignored him he did leave. Closing the door softly behind himself. His steps moving down the hall were rapid, not the confident measured tread Lucius was used to hearing. But Lucius just couldn't deal with the man next to him as he slept. Not while he remembered the man was his guard, duly assigned by the court. They had not come together as friends. Roberts was one of his jailers. One he was forced to sleep with nightly. Well, for this one night he would not.

 

In the morning Lucius felt as he had expected. Awful. His head pounded. His body ached. His foot throbbed. His temper was bleak. He lay in bed and contemplated the day. His whole body screeched at him for not letting Roberts sleep next to him. He was overloaded, as bad as he'd ever been.

Work. He had to get up first, wash and dress, then eat without throwing up. He had to, at some point, touch one of the men who were here to prevent this overload from happening. When he didn't stop them from doing their job. He just didn't like to be reminded that they were his keepers first and only then his friends. And that, if he broke the strictures of his court order, he would be turned in to the Azkaban authorities, by the very men he thought of as his closest friends.

So, he had to touch one of them. It was too dangerous not to, not only to himself but to others he'd be around today. Right now, he really didn't want to be near either of them. Groaning he sat up. A tentative knock sounded at the door, before it opened and Benjamin slipped in. 

The younger man didn't ask if Lucius needed help, He simply walked over to the bed and put his hand on Lucius' bare arm. Immediately, Lucius felt better as the overload bled away. Lucius didn't look into the shorter man's eyes this time. He didn't want to see the power moving through those dark eyes as Benjamin drained Lucius' excess magic into himself. He nodded in the general direction of the other man and stood, his larger frame crowding the auror back.

"Thank you, Benjamin." Lucius said in a tone that was clearly a dismissal.

"Sir..." Benjamin ventured, his face pleading, his hand falling reluctantly down to his side.

"I will be fine now. I don't require any additional help this morning. Thank you." Lucius said firmly.

"Yes, sir." Benjamin said, his face stricken. He hurried out.

 

Breakfast was a trial. Lucius was not rude, he was unfailingly polite, however the usual easy camaraderie was absent. Talk was minimal. Roberts looked down at his plate for most of the meal. Benjamin looked off into space. Lucius ate unhurriedly, but didn't linger as was his habit, not bothering with the usual second cup.

"Sir," Benjamin ventured halfway through his eggs. "We spoke to Mr.Potter last night. May I fill you in on what was said?"

"No, thank you, Benjamin. Perhaps later. Now is not a good time." Lucius replied as he folded his napkin and rose from the table.

 

Apparating to the office instead of taking the early morning walk meant Lucius' temper was even shorter. The walk always managed to relax him, prepare him for the day, just the right amount of morning exercise. He missed having Roberts' hand on his arm as they strolled leisurely to the office. He moved immediately towards his inner sanctum with the morning stack of mail. 

"Cancel the day's scheduled appointments." He told Roberts who was silent behind him. "I won't be seeing business clients today." Then he went into his office and closed the door. He had some calls to make. He stayed in the office, on the calls until lunch time rolled around. He sipped his cold coffee. Stared at the walls, thinking. Not wanting to go out and deal with people, not even for lunch. Lucius let the tie in his hair out, he ran his hands through his hair, rubbing at his aching skull.

 

A knock sounded at the door and before Lucius could call out to find out who it was, the door opened and Harry Potter entered. His face was serious, concerned. He approached the desk and sat in the chair in front of it. His large green eyes were intent. He spoke.

"If I could, I'd hug you now. Benjamin and Roberts told me some of it last night. As much as they could, they said. It must be so difficult living like that. I am so sorry. You are a very strong man Lucius Malfoy." Harry said without preamble.

As suddenly as that, Lucius felt his fists clench. In seconds he was shaking. Rage, pain, fear, and loss crowded in on him. He must have looked bad, because Potter regained his feet in a heartbeat, spending one moment of uncertainty as if he wanted to run to Lucius, before running instead to the door shouting for Roberts.

Roberts was in the office in a flash, face full of tense concern, Lucius had a moment to think, he is more than my jailer. He is my friend. Then Roberts' arms were around him, and because it was the only flesh exposed, the other man pressed their faces together, urgently, hands tangling in Lucius' long blond hair to bring his face down.

Lucius was startled when he felt moisture on the cheek next to his. Roberts was crying?


	9. Nine

Lucius' POV

I can not fully describe what it was like standing in my office in Roberts' arms. 

I knew rationally that it was only one night we had been feuding. One night that I had refused him my bed, refused to sleep next to him. It felt like much, much longer. I held him close to me, wrapping my arms around him, as he did me, both of us aware of an edge of desperation. I needed the feel of his strong body against mine. Needed his strength. Needed it like I needed my next breath. From the power in his embrace, he felt the need, as much as I. His chest was snug against mine, the swell of it so familiar, only a little lower than mine, as he was the shorter of us, I could tuck his chin into my shoulder. I could rock him against me.

I tried to analyze my jumbled feelings as I became aware of them. I was acting as if I had reconciled with a much beloved spouse after a painful fight. Not quite like a fight with a friend. The intensity of the disagreement had been too great. More like I had been betrayed by a lover. And now was reconciling. Forgiving, being forgiven in return. 

It was beyond me to know how I could have such feelings for him. I was male and he was most definitely a very masculine man. I was attracted to women, their softness, their scent their curves and hidden valleys, once I'd been married to a woman, for a very long time. I was heterosexual as far as I knew. As was he.

I had no sexual feelings for Roberts. I did however want to hug him, sleep with him, spend my time with him, perhaps even kiss him. I had to admit he was rightly the closest thing I had to a husband. He and Benjamin. Though Benjamin, while a tad more beefy and even more visually male, was the more wifely of the two. I had, for all intents and purposes, a husband and a wife already. I just had not recognized it. How did Harry Potter fit into the already complicated mix?

I thought about it as I hugged Roberts to me, as I stroked his pale hair. His face was yet against mine, my cheek to his forehead. His voice a low croon in my ear, without definable words, puffing out to shiver along my neck. His hands were running up and down my back and sides as if he could not hold them still, soothing and touching, reconfirming and balancing me. Much more than I'd do with a man who was only my friend. Petting at my loosed hair, his fingers smoothing it down only to sink into the thickness time and again. I didn't object to the touch. I craved it. I wanted it. I was wishing I could go back to last night and ask him to bed with me. Roll into his loose sleepy embrace and just....sleep. 

If I disregarded the fact that Benjamin, Roberts and I did not have sex, did not desire one another that way, then I would say, yes, we were married, or as close to it as was possible for three men who had been nothing but heterosexual all their lives. 

We made a home and a life together, we slept together, filled each others' days and nights. Did each others laundry. Tended one another's hurts and the intimacies all that implied, were ours. I loved to touch them and when I could not have their touch, I mourned, I suffered. A valuable lesson to learn. I did love them.

While Roberts and I embraced and I struggled with my epiphany, I heard Harry, his voice low, and not in the least intrusive. He spoke to us both, I saw him a mere foot away, his face warm and open. He had a smile on his face, and a look near awe while he watched us holding one another.

"You are touching him now, so I can hug him now, right?" Harry Potter asked my Companion. Moving that little bit closer. Raising his slender but strong arms questioningly.

I heard Roberts murmur in return. Potter slid his arms around us both, hugging tight. With honest feeling. He wanted to hold us both. Hold us together.

I had time to think, 'now that is weird.' Then I was experiencing Harry's thoughts. Not words, or sentences, but emotions, feelings, intentions. I was astounded to know he cared for me, wanted me happy, thought I deserved it. Thought I was a beautiful person and such a beautiful, beautiful man. Harry Potter, the man who was being forced to marry me unwillingly, unsolicited, desired me. Harry Potter was mostly straight, but he had no hesitation admitting to himself he wanted me, found me desirable. I don't know why it was such a shock. It staggered me.

I pulled back enough to look down at him, his green eyes, deep and shining, to see that he was still smiling, and I put my arm around him, pulled him nearer. He was so small, so slight. He was smaller than my former wife, Narcissa. 

I wondered just what I was going to do with a legal male spouse. Essentially a third husband. Or, I thought irreverently, two husbands, that would be Harry and Roberts, and one wife, Benjamin. I wondered just how Benjamin would take to being the wife of the bunch.


	10. Ten

I looked up from the heated but friendly argument/debate Benjamin and I were having with Potter. Roberts had gone to answer the door, taking the opportunity to leave us and our highbrow points and counterpoints behind. 

Roberts returned with the oddest look on his face, trailed by a smallish person who looked no more than twelve clutching a notebook to her chest. We stood as a group, politely waiting to be introduced.

"This is Miriam Destry," Roberts said, his tone bizarrely flat. We all stared at him, our discussion forgotten for the moment. She was tiny. Her fuzzy, black haired head would be just higher than my waist. And she really did look twelve. She waved a hand, beaming at us all.

"Hi," she chirped. "I am your court appointed marriage counselor."

Once the shock wore off enough to talk, we introduced ourselves all around. Then Benjamin took over, shepherding us all into the salon, offering tea, which was refused by our new guest, I thought perhaps milk and cookies were more to the point. We let him lead us into the comfortable room, where Potter eagerly grabbed the first chair, I fell into the second, forgetting my manners in an attempt not to fall onto the floor. That left one chair for Miriam and the couch for both Benjamin and Roberts to share. No one was going to sit next to the counselor on that couch. They sat primly, one at either end.

She began, tossing her notebook into her chair and ignoring it otherwise. She bounced and fluttered as she lectured. "Communication," she said, waggling her brows at us all, "is the most important thing in any lasting relationship."

"You have to talk to each other and listen. And really hear what your husband is saying." She waved her tiny hands. She bounced in excitement. "If you can't communicate, you can't succeed." Warble, chirp. 

"If you can talk, then you can have great sex." Urk. My brain fried right then and there, comprehension screeching to a halt. This...baby...was going to talk to me, to us, about sex. In front of... us all. Just ...Urk.

There is little more humiliating to a grown man than to have a younger, much younger in this case, girl/woman teach him anything. Multiply that by four, and you have the four of us, staring at the pint sized dynamo who is enthusiastically lecturing us on sex. And not just sex, but sex between men. 

I have never seen Roberts or Benjamin blush as they are blushing now. I can tell Benjamin and Roberts would give almost anything to be anywhere but here right now. I wish I could join them hiding under the rug in abject humiliation, if only the three of us had the nerve. 

Potter, on the other hand, is rapt. He is actually listening and hearing what she is saying. He is asking questions. Men don't ask girls questions like that. I feel like I am going to burn to ashes my blush is so hot.

"Masturbation is always a good place to start." She was talking about masturbation then. Not the hide out in your room alone, door firmly latched shut, and no one the wiser kind. No she was talking about, 'mutual masturbation'. My brain static-ed, and I couldn't comprehend what I was hearing for several moments.

"...take him in your hand. Be aware of how he feels. Not just the way his erection feels in your hand....but how he is feeling about you touching him. He is heavy and warm in your hand. He gets even harder when you squeeze or stroke him." Urk. I was making that sound again.

"Giving each other pleasure means you should feel free to ask him how he likes to be masturbated. How fast he wants to be stroked, does he like a tight grip, or loose. If he prefers you concentrate on the head or the whole shaft. Orgasm can be very intense, the act is not a substitute for other acts. Just think of the many times you've pleasured yourself. Who would like to share a masturbation fantasy with the rest of us?" She trilled, happily, spinning in place.

I exchanged looks with my wide-eyed aurors, Potter was too busy staring at the girl/woman. If he'd been a dog his ears would have been straight up and forwardly canted. All his enormous attention was on the small lecturer. I could not blame him, as a psychologist he probably found her clinically fascinating.

"No?" She giggled, with an elaborate shrug and threw her arms wide. "Too soon? But don't be shy. Speak up! Remember, communicating is how you will reach the highest levels of sharing. Now, many men enjoy oral sex. Since you have not had oral sex with a male partner, let's go through the techniques most men find enjoyable." She beamed at us, as we sat frozen, Potter was nodding as if he agreed with her, or with her teaching methods.

"Touch is important. Take his erection in your hand. Really look at it. Get comfortable with it. It is helpful to familiarize yourself with another man's erection by experimenting. Taking the head in your mouth, seeing how it tastes, what it is like having something that size, that warm in your mouth. It is much different from oral sex with a woman. The difference takes time to get used to. So take your time! He may be circumcised, or not. It is just fine to try licking under the foreskin, sucking on it, gently! Always gently, unless he tells you he wants something rougher!" She fluttered past my chair, hopping with excitement.

"Licking is good. It is less frightening for men not used to oral sex with other men, because it is less invasive. There is no fear of choking should your partner thrust too deep. Use a variety of licks, long ones from top to bottom, or short ones around the shaft. Swirling your tongue over the crown and the head of your partner's penis is wonderful. His reactions will tell you what he likes. And don't forget to use your hands, cupping his testicles, stroking his legs and buttocks. You can definitely stray off the reservation, as it were," Here she tittered with pure delight. "Lick his scrotum, take it into your mouth, gently. Now," she reached into her pockets, and produced several small, cylindrical objects, passing them to us all. 

I peered at the object with dawning horror. I was sitting in my salon, with three other men and a petite sex-pert, holding a dildo.

"Let's try some of the techniques we've discussed." She was brandishing her own horribly life-like dildo at us. 

I knew I was not the only one who was thinking, "no, absolutely not." That...thing was not going into my mouth.


	11. Eleven

Benjamin, Merlin bless him, rescued us just as the tiny female was about to pair us off for some, "...hands on experimentation, it'll be fun!". He leaped to his feet, apologizing profusely. Where had the time gone? Rabbiting on and on about unavoidable appointments, previous obligations. He gathered the unused, unfondled and unlicked dildos from each of our limp hands as we sat immobile, unable to react. 

Benjamin swept little Miriam ahead of him as he chattered, never letting her get in a word edgewise. I had to commend him on that bit of wisdom, rallying all the way to the front door and out onto the stoop. I heard the door close firmly with greater relief than I'd felt in years, over anything. The remaining three of us stayed seated, not trusting our legs to support us. Stunned. Trying to find our way back to some sort of reality. 

Benjamin reappeared in the doorway. He held a tray with four glasses and a full bottle of our most expensive scotch. He served us all around, generous measures in each glass. In silence. I took the glass with the air of a man reaching for a life preserver on a sinking ship. We all sat there, drinking with every ounce of concentration we had left. It took two tumblers before I felt like the shock was beginning to recede.

"Well." Roberts said as he started his third drink. We all looked at him with grave distrust and maximum censure. Surely, he knew it was too soon to say anything. He subsided into silence again. And we all returned to serious drinking.

Time passed and suddenly Harry let out a huge sigh. I don't know why, but his sigh released something, and it was all right to talk. Or at least to listen to him talking.

"I have never experienced anything like that in my life. Extraordinary!" He said wonderingly. "She was a whirlwind, all that energy. And without an ounce of embarrassment."

"I am sure the rest of us more than made up for her lack of embarrassment." Roberts answered, his voice most dry. He sat limply on his corner of the couch, face without a decipherable expression, drink dangling from one big hand.

"Oh?" Potter zeroed in on him. "Were you embarrassed? I found it fascinating. How interesting that she is considered the expert on male fellatio. That she was obviously a practiced teacher. I got the feeling she knew exactly what she was talking about. And what she did to that...prop of hers." 

Potter had to stop and clear his throat. Three other throats cleared at the same instant. His face was just the tiniest bit moist. We were all seeing her mouth again, her slippery pink tongue....doing crazy, impossible things to her...dildo, while the rest of us had sat, our own dildos clutched in helpless, nerve dead fingers.

I got up abruptly, lurching to my feet, staggering over to the tray and the more than half empty bottle of blessed salvation to pour myself another generous measure. I lifted a brow and the bottle enquiringly. Both Benjamin's and Roberts' hands shot out holding near empty tumblers. I filled them. Potter shook his head.

"We are going to have to deal with this at some point. Unless you are planning on a sexless marriage." Potter ventured, pinning me with a look, that challenged me to say I was. "I suppose that is one option. I had just assumed...Hmmm."

"Urk." I said at first. Then I managed to get control of my tongue. "Perhaps a more private venue would work better? For this kind of discussion?" I hazarded.

"Oh. Well I just assumed since Benjie said I couldn't touch you without one of them being there, that it would extend to sex as well. Doesn't it?" Potter said, the question plain, and one I didn't particularly want to think about, let alone answer. I had been celibate for years, not in small measure due to the necessary caveat in the court order, that said clearly, I had to have one of my aurors in bed with me, touching me if I did have sex. I hadn't wanted sex badly enough to brave that particular requirement.

I pictured Roberts, or Benjamin, had Potter truly called him Benjie?, tucked up behind me, while I attempted to fondle, kiss, or...lick Potter. Or one of them hiding under the bed, my ankle held in a firm grasp, trying to give us some semblance of privacy. It was...horrifying, and I bent my forehead head into my palm. I knew I'd never have an erection again. Never. Frighteningly, I think Potter, on the other hand, would not have any trouble.

I pictured him, nude, excited. Laying in my bed, my husband, mine. His skin, a little darker than my own milk white, but not by much, shining in the rays of moonlight. Laying there with a look of desire in those phenomenal green eyes. Eyes darkened by need, by lust, his breath coming faster, as he looked at me naked for the first time. My mouth was too dry, and I gulped at my drink.

My aroused penis would be larger than his, why? Because it would be unacceptable if I, the larger and older man, did not have a bigger penis. It was just the way things worked in the universe. And Potter, Harry, would be fascinated with it. He would want to touch it, me, his hands sliding over my sensitive skin. He would want to more than touch me. We would kiss. He would swoon in my arms.

Then he would give me a sultry, sexy, breath stealing look and slide down my body. Taking my cock into his mouth, letting me enter him, go between those beautiful, full, wet lips, parted for me, wanting me to thrust my heat into his waiting mouth. I watched my cock disappear into his mouth. He would lick me, suck me, moaning. 

Moaning. Me. I had just moaned out loud. In front of Potter and my Companions. In the middle of the day, in full daylight, in the salon. And I had an impossible-to-miss full-fledged erection.

I jerked back to myself, face flaming, crossing my legs hastily. I allowed my gaze to flick to my two aurors. They were watching me with wide-eyes, Benjamin's mouth hanging open, sweat beaded on his upper lip, Roberts gone bright pink, as I was sure my own face was. Potter on the other hand, was taking panting little breaths while he watched me, leaning forward in his chair. I saw the shudder move through him, rippling over his skin. I saw into his open mouth through his damp, self-nibbled lips. I saw the color staining his spare cheeks. He was stunningly, heartrendingly, absolutely beautiful.

And I was fantasizing about mutual masturbation, frottage, fellatio, orgasm. I realized I was thinking about doing all of those kind of things with and to one Harry James Potter. And that every one in the room knew it.


	12. Twelve

Lucius' POV

"Mr. Malfoy. Auror Charles. Auror Roberts. Please, come this way." 

I stood, towering over the slight form of the executive assistant/secretary of Judge Alexa Gregson. Her soft blue eyes fastened on me like a jungle cat spying a particularly fat goose and flicked up to the top of my head, and down to my booted feet. I could almost hear the calculations going on in her head, adding up my net worth. I could tell she liked what she saw. I kept my face neutral, making the message clear. I wasn't interested.

Roberts stood in front of me by a fraction. Benjamin behind me by the same margin. Bracketing me. The assistant was probably not familiar with my case, because she kept looking up at me with the kind of look wise men run from. I wondered if she would still look at me that way if she knew one or both of the other men with me would have to be with us if we went to bed together. 

We followed her twitching hips and clicking heels down the wide hall of the court building. The marble under our feet was a pale brown with sooty veins. The dark brown velvet of the immense curtains partly shielding the equally vast windows were precisely the same color as the veins in the stone. Our steps echoed in the empty space around us. No one else was up this early. The place was deserted.

The assistant showed us into Alexa's chambers, announcing us, then closing the door softly behind. I saw Alexa, and a roundish, expressionless man in robes like hers. She, I expected, he I had not.

Alexa moved forward, smiling, her voluminous robes billowing around her willowy body. Her dark skin glowed ebony, her eyes sparkling with welcome. We'd done this before. My hand opened and reached back, Roberts' hand closed firmly on mine. Right before Alexa kissed my cheek as I bent down into her touch.

"Lucius. You are more handsome each time I see you. Come, let's take a seat and get started." Alexa went to sit behind her vast desk. The entire surface was covered with documents. She turned toward the man. "Jess, this is Lucius Malfoy. Lucius, this is Jess Chei-Chei. He is an expert on criminal penalty orders like yours."

Benjamin saw the coffee service in the corner of the room and raised his brows at me. I nodded. He moved to the caddy and explored its offerings. He brought me a cup, which I set on the edge of the desk. Benjamin remained standing behind me, as if reluctant to resume his seat. Alexa and the man with her never deigned to notice.

I found it sad somehow that there were enough people living under similar conditions to mine that there was an expert. But, if he could help me I was glad there was one.

"I managed to get this case assigned to me once I heard about the second order." Alexa shook her head. "It is going to be impossible to follow the first order and the second order both, without getting an authorization to disclose." She shook her head again. The rotund man leaned in and and whispered in her ear. She nodded, puckering her lips. He swiveled towards us, my aurors and myself.

The shorter man finally spoke. "I've read the documents pertaining to your case." He said. I waited for more. He stood there blinking at me, darting looks at my Keepers, clearly waiting for a response or maybe congratulations. Bemused by this odd man, I turned back to Alexa.

"And...?" I invited some disclosure. If not from him , then I was more than willing to accept it from her.

"We've looked into dismissing the second order, on hardship grounds. I am afraid that won't fly. The CoWW is calling in every favor they have to see it is carried out." She glanced at her calendar. "In three weeks time. Their argument is that it is for the civic good. The only chance for the peace treaty to succeed."

"Yes. Good for society to see you married. You and Potter." The small man said. Again that was all. I pursed my lips, waiting. Nothing more. He just stood and looked profoundly satisfied. Roberts was less patient than I.

"It won't do anyone any good if Mr.Potter is killed because he hasn't gotten the whole story." Roberts' put in at last, as if he couldn't help himself. His tone was cross, sharp.

Alexa stared in shock. Chei-Chei looked at him owlishly. He blinked.

Roberts had never said one word in any legal chambers before today. I sighed. Both my Companions had developed a fondness for Potter. The young man was a frequent visitor at our home, and had even spent the night once or twice. In the guest room. Alone. Unmolested. 

Alexa made a sound, drawing my eye. I shook my head a fraction and she turned back to her reading. I reached out and took Roberts' hand. The sides of our chairs hid the fact we were holding hands. His fist was trembling, as he gripped me hard. Not with fear, I knew him better than that. He was brimming with frustration, with anger. He wanted the babbling to stop and concrete action to take its place. Not going to happen, buddy, I thought at him. 

"Now. It is a matter of working within the guidelines. I am confident we can persuade the ruling Judge to provide the authorization for your future spouse to learn the necessary information." Alexa said after a few awkward minutes. "Jess is going to argue before the panel. He is a brilliant debater."

I stared at the man in question. No offense. But, so far I was not impressed with his oratory skills. "And when will this argument take place?" I asked for lack of anything else diplomatic enough to say.

Alexa looked at her gold and diamond watch. "Oh, right about now." And with a snap, Jess Chei-Chei disappeared.


	13. Thirteen

Eighteen long hours later Jess Chei-Chei re-apparated into Alexa's chambers. 

He looked as fresh as when he'd left, as if he'd never left. He wandered over to the desk and started searching through the papers. He lifted stacks. Looked under them. Opened a drawer. Looked inside. Stuck his head almost all the way inside, I think he tried to crawl in but couldn't fit. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the desk. I watched him with curiosity I was unable to suppress. He said nothing, just humphed under his breath, muttering to himself.

I exchanged a look with Roberts. Who shrugged, an expression of supreme skepticism on his face. I stayed where I was, reclining on the comfortable leather couch, my arms folded behind my head. Lunch and dinner, inadequate as they had been, were distant memories. I was hungry. My stomach was growling in complaint.

Alexa re-apparated with an audible pop. I sat up. She hurried to her desk. Bent down, began talking to the small man underneath it. I couldn't hear what she was saying to her colleague.

Benjamin re-entered the room from the hall, noting the two returned occupants. His dark eyes flew to Roberts' then to mine. We both shook our heads.

Alexa finally straightened. She beamed at us. "Well," she said. "He was absolutely brilliant. I feel privileged to have seen him. We've won. Now. Let's sit down and go over the facts." She fluffed out her robes.

She sat down and I rose walked over, noting how being inactive for so long had stiffened my limbs, resumed the seat in front of her desk and she began. Three hours later the last motion of the laborious trial was covered. And my head was spinning. It was a whole different language. Not one meant for simple communication. It was a language meant for obfuscation, multiple meanings, and in my opinion, trickery. I had a headache, and Roberts had the same pained look I was betting was on my face. Benjamin, once again standing on alert behind me where I couldn't see him, was silent.

"So. We won?" I wasn't sure of it. Not with all the gobbledy-gook I'd just heard. I waited for her to respond, to tell me just how we'd prevailed, and over what.

"Absolutely." Alexa assured me, beaming at me. A thumping came from under her desk. An unshod foot poked out on my side of the desk, it jerked wildly. I discretely moved my boot back, keeping my eyes on Alexa's shining face. Behind me Benjamin flexed, pulling my chair backwards by a good quarter meter and out of the reach of the flailing bare foot.

"I can tell Mr. Potter all of it?" I asked, bluntly, because I was having doubts about the winning thing. 

"Yes, of course." She showed me a smile that bared all her teeth. I sighed silently. That was what I was afraid of. There was a catch.

"And...?" I prompted, keeping the annoyance out of my voice with the benefit of long practice. It came out pleasantly smooth, friendly. Roberts leaned forward, recognizing my tone. Benjamin stiffened, I heard his nails digging into the expensive leather of the chair next to each of my shoulders.

"Once you are married he will be privy to all the information you want to give him." Alexa told me, told us, because, honestly, I was not the only interested party.

"Once we are married. You mean I am not allowed to tell him anything before hand?" I clarified, hoping I was wrong, feeling a dismal gloom threaten to descend over me. "Is that what you mean?"

"No." She said brightly. "Nothing." Something deep in the back of the chair cracked as Benjamin tightened his grip.

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We sat around the table. Corn muffins heaped on a plate in the center of it. Bowls of Benjamin's special spicy chili, usually a giant hit, were being ignored. Three cups of untouched, lightly sweetened and creamed tea sat at our elbows. Roberts sighed. Benjamin slumped in his chair, his favorite apron askew, the bow canted left.

"We'll be upfront. He might still agree to marry you." Roberts offered into the heavy silence. His tone was hopeful, but not too hopeful. I shook my head, dismally.

"He was very clear, Tobias. No disclosure, no marriage." I reminded my Companion. Recalling to all our minds the conversation we'd had with Potter most recently.

"It is just the matter of waiting few weeks." Benjamin said, hopefully. Uncharacteristically, he had a smear of chili on his apron. His aprons usually remained spotless, no matter what he was cooking. "Perhaps..."

"And a matter of knowing nothing about the situation he is agreeing to live in. How can we try to talk him into this? It is hardly in his best interest." I said. It wasn't fair to him. None of this was. He was not gay. He was young. Handsome. Intelligent. Brilliant. Kind. A hero. He deserved better. A lovely wife, children, though as I knew, children could be a mixed blessing.

"It is not like he has a choice. He has to marry you. The court would not rescind the order." Roberts said a minute later. "He, you, both of you would be breaking the law."

I sat back. Let out another sigh. Marry me. When had that become my goal? *Our* goal, that Potter marry me. Not the goal of the CoWW alone. Because it was suddenly my aurors' goal as much as it was mine. Just as unexpectedly. Potter, inexplicably faced not one but three eager bridegrooms. 

Benjamin stood, smoothing down the gingham checked blue and white apron. He looked down and saw the stain. He drew in a breath as he reached around to untie the apron strings. He took the untouched bowls and scraped the food into the waste bin. I watched his broad back. Roberts also stood.

"Well no use in putting it off. I'll go call Potter, see if he'll drop 'round." He walked out his shoulders more rounded than normal, as slumped as a man of his upright bearing could get. I pushed at the muffin in front of me. I stabbed my finger into it. Breaking up the moist treat. Scattering crumbs, squashing some under my nail. Benjamin came over and took the mess from me, wiping the table, handing me a napkin. Then he returned to the sink, filling it with sudsy water.

I sat, sulking. Alone at the table. I pouted.


	14. Fourteen

I was so pleased with Potter's agreement to marry, that I didn't mind having to face Miriam Destry again. One of the points in our 'victory' decree was that we had to stop avoiding the marriage counselor. CoWW wanted to be sure the marriage was a success. So we needed therapy. Instruction. Humiliation.

Potter had listened to us when he came to the house following Roberts' dispirited call. He'd heard how we'd tried to win the right to tell him about the court order. From the three of us. He never interrupted our garbled explanations and yes, our excuses, as the explanation flew from one of us to the other. The three of us desperate to discover some way to salvage the unsalvagable.

I'd gone over every detail I remembered, every one Alexa covered. I'd explained to the best of my ability. I told him he deserved better. That I would support him in his fight against the court ordered marriage. That I thought he shouldn't be used like this, as a political pawn in service of the Treaty of Peace. We were already in peace time without it and doing just fine.

He'd nodded, his big eyes glowing, his face ethereal in his contemplative beauty as he let us all, me, Roberts and Benjamin have our say. I told him I sincerely hoped that he would continue to visit our home and consider it his own, as I had grown very fond of him during our too short acquaintance.

He listened. Then he'd agreed. We had tried. It wasn't our fault. There was nothing more that could be done. Yes, he would marry me. 

I had sat head hanging waiting for him to say it wasn't enough. In fact, all three of us were sitting there, waiting to be scolded. Dejected. Feeling sad, defeated. Then he said, fine. He could see his way to marrying me. 

For a minute none of us understood quite what he'd said. Then Benjamin let out a very uncharacteristic whoop of joy. Followed by Roberts' howl, and my own. We all grinned like a pack of idiots. Benjamin swung Potter up into the air, as I wanted to do. Roberts clapped him on the back. I stood back and beamed, waiting for my turn. Waiting until things were a little calmer so I could be sure he was safe when I touched him. I was giddy with joy.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

So we were sitting here in the kitchen after a marathon session with little Miriam. Four grown men, exhausted by the antics of one young woman. Half of the exhaustion stemmed from never being able to brace oneself for what was coming next. She was...unpredictable. I found myself unable to recall much of what she had said after spending most of the morning in fight-or-flight mode.

She had brought with her several new increasingly shocking toys. Lubricant. More dildos. Tiny pincher-like clips. Apparently for use on one's nipples, or on one's partner's nipples should he be so foolish as not to flee. Restraints, ditto the usage. Massage oil. I had shared the couch with Roberts this session, in anticipation of being unable to avoid touching someone this time. I had not used the lubricant on him, or on myself, despite being urged that it was perfectly OK to do so by the leaping, chittering, fist pumping Miriam. Who tried a further encouragement by telling us all it was flavored and quite tasty.

I did manage to massage one of Roberts' large hands. His fingers were longer and thicker than my own, I discovered. I had not noted the difference previously. He was a very large man, wide, powerful. His palm was strong, smooth, capable, and it was pleasant to touch him. I let myself enjoy the massage and exploration of his hand. I did not nibble on his fingers as the appallingly oral Miriam suggested. The oil, we were informed, was flavored as well. I was surprised to find Roberts discreetly crossing his legs in the middle of it, for the usual reasons. And having to cross my own on that mildly shocking realization. It seemed to be catching. Politely, we both ignored the other's predicament.

It was not over yet. Potter had generously extended an invitation to lunch. So Miriam was in the kitchen with us, ready to sample some of Benjamin's famous creamed potato and bacon soup, with large chunks of lean ham in addition to the bacon, fresh crusty sourdough bread with just the right 'tang' to it, and piles of fresh fruit to clean the palate, sliced apples and pears, with perfectly perfumed ripeness.

We all took our chairs, all but Benjamin who set about selecting an apron, a particularly white and frilly one I was pleased to note, and I engaged in one of my favorite pastimes. Watching him cook. He knew his way around a kitchen, that man did. 

Roberts tried to help the petite Miriam with her sturdy chair, pulling it out for her. Offering a cushion to further lift her tiny chin up over the table edge. She clambered right up into the seat and onto the table without a pause. Benjamin nearly dropped the bottles of beer he was carrying back to us at the sight of someone sitting on top of his pristine table. Then his eyes dropped lower and I saw his step falter as he came close to stumbling.

Miriam plopped herself on the end of the table, legs crossed, her very short skirt riding up alarmingly. She perched there, while I choked, averting my eyes and while Potter made a strangled sound, unable to avert his own eyes, as if he were driving past a shockingly gruesome traffic accident. 

Benjamin opened a large cloth napkin with a snap and instantly placed it over Miriam's lap, the beer hitting the tabletop with a clatter, Roberts saving the bottles from disaster. He weighed the napkin down with a plate and silverware on top, and one of the bottles of beer, in case she had any designs on moving it. Roberts, lucky man, had been behind her the whole time. But it was clear he'd picked up on what had happened.

Miriam did not, however, have the ability to remain still. The napkin stayed in place for less than a quarter of an hour, as our marriage counselor wiggled and giggled. I was astonished by her honest obliviousness, while she regaled us with stories and her own special advice. 

I retained not one word of her sage advice, for very obvious reasons. And lunch was virtually ignored until Benjamin abandoned polite methods, lifted her down from the table top and perched her, wrapped in his smallest half apron, tied firmly in a double knot around her hips and waist, on top the mound of cushions heaped by a helpful Potter on her chair. Lunch proceeded satisfactorily after that.


	15. Fifteen

Lucius' POV

Benjamin had come with me to the office. He did so at times just for a change. Perhaps one day in six. He was every bit as adept at handling the office as Roberts was. Perhaps he was even more gifted at handling the people all of whom doted on him. 

The older men and older ladies beamed at him like he was a favored grandson. The younger men and women looked at him with something closer to prurient interest. The middle aged treated him as a son. He lavished attention on all of them. All the while managing to remain absolutely correct, and not at all overly familiar.

I heard over and over when I brought him in. "Such a handsome, caring young man, Mr. Malfoy." "Such an asset to your company." Roberts tended to get more compliments on his efficiency.

Some added the question, "Is he married?" 

I'd pondered how to answer that question in the past. Because, though he wasn't married, and had not had a date in many months, neither he nor Roberts was actually free. They were stuck with me. No wife was going to put up with her husband sleeping with someone else every other night of the week, no matter if she believed he was doing so without a sexual relationship.

Since my little realization that I was a hell of a lot closer to the two men than I had previously admitted, I'd taken to simply answering, that I was terribly sorry, but yes, Benjamin was committed. I just didn't say to whom. And I am not so approachable that anyone took the chance to grill me on my reply, no matter the reason for their interest. 

The office smelled wonderfully of his rich coffee and chocolate. I preferred tea, but the clients were in seventh heaven sipping cup after cup of Benjamin's dark, heady brew. Many a day Benjamin sent in nibbles with Roberts and I. But on the days he actually came to the office, he brought with him a literal pile of snacks. Muffins, cookies, biscuits, and sliced or dried fruits. The offices were fragrant with his many offerings. 

We were preparing to walk home, the day having gone quickly by. The weather having warmed not a whit, we were in the process of bundling up, when the door opened and Potter entered. 

Benjamin's instinctive move to block whoever was entering stopped. He stood aside and Potter came further in. He was trailed by an enormous suitcase that floated along behind him as he wielded his wand, like coaxing a formidable pet into the room. 

Benjamin's hand came to rest on my shoulder just as Harry grabbed me up in a hug. Unused as I was to such public displays, I returned his embrace at once. I held him close, tight. He was covered up as if it were at least twenty degrees colder than it actually was outside, he didn't have nearly enough insulating bulk on him. Benjamin was going to have to fatten him up just a touch. Potter clung to me with just as much force as I held him.

A few moments later I opened my eyes, straightening up, and eyed the suitcase. It was huge, and one of those shrinking varieties. It might have held the entire contents of a room or a small house in its magic-ed insides. Or it might simply be full of clothes for a weekend away.

"Are you taking a trip?'" I asked. It suddenly occurred to me that he might be getting cold feet, what with the wedding being only a week away. Was he setting out on the run? Had he decided he could not wed me? I looked at his face with growing alarm. He looked back at me, calm enough. His eyes held a twinkle. "Harry, have you changed your mind? Are you leaving us?" I asked in a rush.

Benjamin went quiet, stiffening alongside me. I could feel how all of his attention was on the younger man. Mine was as well. Harry stroked his hand over my chest. My breath caught. He hadn't touched me quite like that before, with such intimate ease.

"No, Luc. I thought I'd take you up on your many hints. I thought I'd move in. It's just a week early, mind, no big deal...." He said. And that was all I let him get out.

I shouted with glee and lifted him up off his feet, swinging his small weight up high into the air. Due to the violent suddenness of my motion, Benjamin's hand slipped from me, and the room was filled with light, with bright magic, with the tingling rush of passion and power. I gasped, feeling the essence of Harry's magic, so much of it, too much, filling me to every corner. I felt it all drive in at me, overwhelming, abrupt, I dropped Harry and we both fell to the floor. Next to us I heard the bass thump of his suitcase hitting the floor as it's source magical propulsion was instantly gone.

When I returned to my senses, Benjamin was plastered to me, having torn open my coat to get at my skin. I felt his chest, and mine, both bare. his hands were sliding over me, my chest, stomach and waist, then around to my back, he was calling my name softly, his dark, soft haired head pressed to the side of my face, murmuring into my ear. I didn't much care about any thing but one person at that moment. Heart hammering, I cast about for Potter. Merlin, pray that he was unhurt.

Harry was sitting next to us, cross legged. Watching. His wand was in his hand, or at least what was left of it. The splintered thing was more a bundle of kindling than a wand now. But what was important...he looked well. Contemplative, thoughtful, but unharmed. I let out a gasp of pure relief. His eyes lifted to mine.

He turned his great, green eyes on me fully, and his mouth twitched. "Well," he said. "I have a sense of the problem now, don't I?"

Benjamin's head sagged down to rest on my shoulder.


	16. Sixteen

Roberts' POV

I can do this. I am standing in front of the mirror. One more time, checking my suit, running my hands up and down to be sure there are no folds or wrinkles. This suit is a step up from my usual. The fabric is expensive, soft, it hangs just right. The quality is extraordinary. I know I look good. Even so, I can't stop checking. Today is too important to miss anything.

Lucius is nearby. Benjamin is checking Lucius' bow tie. He looks impeccable, and Benjamin, he is as well. All of us in formal black. Lucius refused to wear a cummerbund. Just pure white silk shirts under the jackets. No fancy colors. No ruffles. We each have two buds on our lapels, one white rose, and one deep red bud. That is it. Low key. Like Lucius, elegant. 

Potter is off with his friends. He joked they wanted to put him into a dress. At least I think it was a joke. He wouldn't let any of us go with him to the fittings. That red headed friend of his went. Ron, I think his name was. And we have no idea what he will be in when he shows up. It doesn't matter, he will be beautiful no matter what he wears.

We've talked about how to do this. We wanted the ceremony to be more private, like in the Judge's chambers kind of private. By we, I mean Lucius, Benjamin and I. But Potter, Harry wouldn't hear of it. He wants everyone to know. He wants to make a huge splash, let no one claim he is ashamed of this match. The CoWW people agree with him, so it's going to be big. An extravaganza. Lucius is footing the bill. He can afford it after all. Though the temptation was to make CoWW take it out of their damn budget. Keep them out of trouble by bankrupting them.

The problem is going to be, how will every one react when Benjamin and I have to stand with the lucky couple? One of us has to be touching Lucius at all times in a gathering of this size. Someone might accidentally touch him, just like happened to Harry at the office.

That scared us all. All but Harry. He's been trying to tell us it wasn't so bad. Assuring us he is fine. Benjamin confessed he didn't know who to help first. He did chose Lucius, but seeing Potter blasted down to the floor.... Benjamin nearly panicked. That came close to a real disaster. We can't let it happen again.

Harry has been living in the house since that day. He has his own room. We have more than enough of them, even if the house is not the size of the old Malfoy Manor. And now that he is living in the house, we can get some good food into him, maybe he'll look a little less like a hungry, ethereal waif. More like the strong young man he is. He is beautiful, you know. 

We have decided, among all of us, that both Benjamin and I will be at the altar. I will hold Lucius' hand, and Benjamin will hold Harry's. That way it won't look as strange as if only one of us is there. Holding onto Lucius. We hope it will look like we are supporting the two of them. Not like the four of us are getting married.

I must admit in my secret heart that is what this feels like. I've been married before. And this feels like I am getting married again. Me. Not just Lucius and Harry. No it definitely feels like the four of us are altar bound. Which we are. But not like that. The butterflies in my stomach are dancing wildly.

I don't think....well...I do, sort of...feel like I'm getting married. But...

I mean Harry and Lucius wouldn't want that, would they? 

I wouldn't mind being married to either of them. Both. Yes. Both.

But, sex, well. I am still heterosexual as far as I can tell. Though those sessions with Ms. Destry, they tried my convictions, sorely. I had not expected to sport a boner while Lucius was rubbing my hand. It was only my hand, for Merlin's sake. It was just hearing Miriam tell him to lick my hand, suck my fingers. I think it's been too long since I had sex with any one. Hard to get close enough to a woman with the job I have right now. One that shows no sign of going away. I mean who is there to replace me? And...I don't want to be replaced. I want to stay.

We had talked about the wedding night. Oh, god. I don't know how that is going to work out. I have to be the one there with them. We drew straws.

Lucius asked me to agree when I drew the longest. 

I can do this. I just need to talk myself into believing it.


	17. Seventeen

Lucius' POV

Potter came into the huge, tea-rose strewn room very shortly after we did. We had tried to put off our entrance until immediately before the ceremony to reduce the need to entertain and mingle with the guests, most of whom I was not acquainted with, or knew only slightly and would never have invited to any personal function if it were left up to me. However, this was essentially a state function for all intents and purposes, for which I had the honor of footing the bill, not a personal one. So I had little say in it. I wielded the cheque book and little else in this event.

Of course since the end result was going to be that Potter and I were wed, well I was not going to complain too much nor too loudly. I couldn't imagine that less than a quarter of a year ago, I had known next to nothing about him. He had had no part in my day to day life, now he was integral to it, absolutely vital. After one week of his living at the house, I couldn't imagine going back to not having him there. It was equally apparent that Benjamin and Roberts felt the same.

Roberts was escorting me as we made our way, I was firmly attached to his arm, and a good thing as everyone seemed to feel it necessary to reach out and touch me. Even complete strangers took a grip on me to offer congratulations, pumping my hand vigorously. A few of the ladies embraced me more familiarly than I thought warranted, being as I'd never seen them before. I fended off more than one grope. All the myth about women being the ones needing to defend their virtue? Hogwash.

I was hugged, my hand shaken, passed from group to group, and I caught only about a third of the names spouted at me. I held Roberts tight to my side with grim determination throughout it all. If I should inadvertently blast one of these important guests the wedding would be delayed, and I did not want that. I wanted it done and over, and Potter on his way home with us, safe and sound. Benjamin headed off in Potter's direction the instant we saw him.

Harry was all I could look at after he entered. His ginger-haired friend Weasley, who we had met at the house last week, was tucked up to his side, one long arm around him, bending down as Harry was swamped by well wishers and self-important public servants. The CoWW people were in the lead, the rotund little man who had bearded me in my office, at the head of the line. Harry looked both happy, unhappy, and terribly nervous, a hand clutched in Ron's coat, holding fast, as they descended on him. Ron, bless him, towered over Harry protectively, a forbidding scowl on his face looking as if he was only moments away from pulling his wand.

Harry was wearing ivory, antique lace if I don't miss my guess. Not fine, feminine lace, but lace nevertheless, bold and well done, and ivory-gold brocade edging it. He was clad in a long coat, it ended just above his ankles, well tailored, snugly fit to his slender frame, with a high neckline, full length sleeves. Tiny gold earrings winked in his earlobes. His hair was it's usual wild, wonderful mass with sprigs of fine white flowers tucked here and there. 

His black trousers showed underneath the coat, narrow legged. And his shoes were as black, sporting discreet, narrow two inch heels. I smiled at that. Potter was a foot shorter than I, 5'6" to my 6'6". No amount of heels were going to bring us up to the same height. What it did was make him appear even more slender, delicate. Frail. I was glad to see the tall, strong figure of Benjamin arrive at his side and manage to offer him some additional protection from the surrounding mob.

He could not have chosen a better color. The ivory set off his fair skin until it glowed and made his green eyes stand out, looking even larger than they actually were, the dark lashes around them like a fine fringe of lace themselves. His mouth was soft looking, full, tinged pink, I didn't think it was artifice. Harry Potter was truly lovely in his own right. I was devastated his usually easy smile was missing.

I watched as Benjamin expertly extricated them from the surrounding hubbub, treading on more than a few polished toes. Harry clung to both of them, seizing Benjamin's arm in grip that left his fingers bone-white. They spoke for a few moments, as Ron and Benjamin led Harry without more interference towards us. It took both of them, big as they were to get him headed our way, and past the many outstretched, grasping hands. Then Harry was headed towards the altar. Roberts and I set off to meet him.

Just before we arrived at our destination, a miniature whirlwind bounded up to us. Miriam Destry, the marriage counselor extraordinaire, leaped up, making a surprising jump, all the way up into my arms as I automatically caught her. Her chattering made no inroads into my brain. I merely patted her, nodded as if I understood a word or two, then set her down with another pat on her dark head. She, for her part, beamed at us, like a proud parent. I think she said something about remembering the lessons, and communicating well.

Roberts' reply, I did catch. He was assuring her that we remembered all of our sessions with her, as each had been utterly impossible to forget. At that she hugged Roberts, he squeaked at the force of it, and she spun back onto me, grinding her small breasts into my crotch as she hugged me again, muttering into my belly button. I think she bit me, just a little. It took both Roberts and I, as I could only use one hand, to pry her off. When we won my hard earned freedom, I saw Potter had made it all the way to the right side of the altar and up the steps. Benjamin stood with him, a wry smile on his lips as he saw us wrestling the tiny dynamo. Who once pried away, whirled off into the crowd, chortling happily. I wondered, not for the first time, how aware she was of taking such profound liberties.

Then it hardly mattered. I was at the altar, Harry next to me. And the officiator stepped up in front of us. My knees began to shake. 

"Steady on." Roberts whispered to me, his hand on my elbow turning to iron, the only thing keeping me on my feet for a moment. Harry looked no better, he reached out a hand and I took it. 

Ahhh, better. Much better. Our fingers entwined as we stood sharing a look. It took the clearing of the officiator's throat to pull me back from the look to the present and the ceremony under way. She droned on and on, and once again I was lost in the huge green eyes. We exchanged the simple gold bands we'd chosen, as if in a dream.

"I do." Roberts hissed in my ear, stretching up on his toes, trying not to be overheard. I blinked, almost asking him what he was talking about, that he did what? Then it hit me, and I gulped.

"I do." I said clearly, pleased at how steady and sure my voice was. Harry blushed, his lips parted, and I felt all the blood in my body heading south. We leaned in and kissed for the first time. My mouth on his, so impossibly right. 

Harry sighed, a tiny little moan of heated pleasure, as our mouths came together. Every hair on my body stood to attention, as well as more hefty portions of my anatomy. Just our lips. Wet and warm. His tongue slipped out and touched mine. 

Oh. 

OH.


	18. Eighteen

Benjamin poured us all a heated brandy when we staggered in to the kitchen hours later. My bow tie was a thing of the past, and Roberts' was askew. Benjamin somehow managed to look every bit as perfectly groomed as when we'd first braved the wedding company. I shook my head, a fond smile curling at the corner of my mouth.

The reception was just a nightmarish memory, at last. We were married, the officiator had said so. Sputtering a little over the 'husband and husband' pronouncement, but managing in the end to get the words out. I turned to Potter as we sat there, at the table, in the gradually warming kitchen. He looked stunned, but happy as he swirled his drink in its round bellied snifter.

"I can tell you about the court order now, if you'd like." I said, wanting him to know, not to wanting to keep him in the dark a moment longer than I had to.

"Not now," he said in return, leaning forward towards me, placing a finger on my mouth, "not tonight. Tonight I want to be a newly married man, in love with my husband. Nothing else." My heart melted on the spot, and I agreed. Whatever he wanted. If it was within my power to give, I'd give it. The explanation could wait.

 

I undressed with an uncommon awareness of what I was preparing for. I wondered what I should do. Should I strip down to my briefs? Wait for my brand new husband in the nude? Nude with Roberts in the same bed? 

I stood next to the big bed, holding my sleeping trousers, unable to decide. Roberts entered my bedroom before Harry. He saw my consternation at once and hurried to my side.

"Just do what you'd do on any other night, Lucius. Put on your pajamas, you can always take them off later." He soothed. He was wearing his usual I noted, and I found it comforting. Good advice I decided. I dragged on my silks, top and bottom, just like always. Tonight my feet looked especially bare.

If Harry and I had shared a bed before tonight the pressure would have been off. I would not be feeling this paralyzed. But we hadn't. Both of us had thought waiting for the wedding night would allow us to develop our relationship more honestly with fewer distractions. We thought it would make us more comfortable. And it had, in part. We had become great friends in a very short period of time. But not with this part. Not with the sex.

"Hey." Roberts and I turned to the door. Potter stood there, less than two meters away, smelling fresh scrubbed, the hair around his face a bit damp from his before bed ablutions. He was wearing a horrible, garish set of red and gold Gryffindor plaid flannel pajamas. He was beautiful. "I thought we'd use your bed, it is larger than mine." He said to us, quietly.

I nodded, and he came further into the room, looking around. He'd not been in here before I realized. I moved to the wall and turned on the overhead light. I didn't use the 'luminos' spell often, I tended to set things on fire when I did. In fact, I could reliably start the kitchen fire with the illumination spell. A little too much magic. Muggle electricity worked just fine for such simple things. And was less risky.

Harry looked around until his eyes came to rest on me. Then he reached out and shut the overhead off. We were left with the low, golden glow of the lighting from the beside lamp. The three of us, standing next to the bed. Harry kept his deep green eyes fastened on mine. Then he began to unbutton his top.

"Get in bed, gentlemen, just as you are," he told us, a little sternly and quite affectionately. "I am not in the mood to wait all night." His top fell to the floor. Roberts looked at me and I looked at him. We both tumbled into the bed. I heard someone's throat clear, and I saw Benjamin in the doorway, head shyly to one side.

"I just came to say goodnight, Sir. Harry." He said, his voice more subdued than I'd heard in a long while. His amber eyes were suspiciously shiny. He looked...lonely. 

"You, too, Benjie." Harry ordered before I could return my Companion's good night wish. "In the bed. Hurry up." He gave Benjamin's sleeve a little tug. And then there were three of us, all in the bed, gaping, waiting for him. 

"Let's start out with something simple, cause I am not up to anything too complicated if you don't mind." Potter said as he crawled up into the bed from the foot. I saw his cheeks were tinged with a blush. I flashed on what he might mean by complicated. I was sporting my own blush, then. Hmmm. Well. Yes, best wait for anything...complicated.

I was plastered securely against Roberts, he at my back, upper hand on my hip, firm grip. This was going to be the very last place and time I allowed any accidents to happen. Harry lay right up against me, stretched al long as he could, with Benjamin behind him as he faced me. He snuggled in close, and my arms moved to hold onto him.

Oh, god. It was perfect. Holding him. Feeling him breathe against my chest. Being able to bury my nose in his curls, inhale the special scent that was Harry, clean and natural. I stroked a finger through his hair. I found his ear, circled it with the tip of my finger, tugged on his lobe, before sinking all the fingers of that hand into his mop of hair so I was holding his head in my palm. I kissed the top of his head, his temple, his ear, massaging his scalp with my fingers. He moaned.

My skin tried to crawl off my body at that sound. Every nerve I had went on alert. And all my blood was...down there, my prick instantly as hard as it had ever been. He wiggled against me, pulling back to look at me. He grinned. "Lucius." He murmured, in that tone that said everything.

I leaned back harder into Roberts, hardly noticing he was there. I put a hand under Harry's bottom and lifted him up. It brought our mouths to a level. 

I brushed his lips with mine. Soft. Gentle. And again, stopping to press, feel the wet line of his lips where they were parted a fraction, where the moisture stuck us together a bit. 

Softer. Nibbling. Lingering. Pulling his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it. Laving it with my tongue to soothe it. Tasting him. I turned my head to fit our mouths together.

His tongue tangled with mine, licking, tiny sweet touches, lapping at me. His upper leg wound itself over my hip, knee sliding along my flank. He pushed closer to me. He was hard, his body trembling, seeking to be all the nearer. My hand cupped his rear, pulled him in. Pressed him tight, his erection on my belly.

He moaned again. Low, deep, needy, aching. He moved against me, one long, fluid ripple of motion. My erection caught the downward motion of his body, rode up along the inside of his thigh. I hissed at the contact, and he dragged his mouth away. His hands fumbled at my pants.

"Off, down, out of the way, now, now, now," he muttered. I had them down around my knees in an instant. He took care of his own, tugged them off to hang by one ankle, as nimble with his toes as fingers. He was bare, his skin next to mine. Silk, satin. So smooth. 

My hands roamed over him, both hands, holding his buttocks, fingers finding the dimples, full of those hot rounded curves. He shivered. He bit my chest above the top, I hissed at the sensation, his sharp teeth on my skin. He grabbed my waist. Moved. Sliding against me, one hand slipped down, and he was holding me, tight in his grasp. 

"Harry," I managed to get out. I was going to explode. He slid his hand up and down, whimpered at the surge my body gave in response. He straddled me. Our cocks together, held in both his hands. He swayed his hips making his cock slide along mine. 

My head fell back. I let out a helpless groan. He echoed me, and I looked up, his eyes were bright, his face pink, his mouth open, panting, he looked into my eyes, his own wide, and he moaned. I shuddered under that look, hearing that sound from him.

"Luc!" He keened, "I can't...." and he came. All over me, his hands, my prick, in hot surges, flooding my stomach. It was the last bit I needed, every muscle in my pelvis seized up. I released, my body rigid as I did. Long exquisite pulses of pleasure. Jets of moisture, splattering between us. His spasms of breath on my chest as he collapsed forward onto me. Letting out little moans, over and over. Merlin. I lay limp. Utterly helpless to move. I had never felt a release like that. Sudden. Tearingly intense.

I slowly came back to myself, Harry glued to me in more ways than one, content. I shifted and felt the unmistakable length of an erection pressing into my hip from behind. I went still. My eyes popped open. I saw Benjamin lying unnaturally still, his face buried into a pillow, his knees raised to conceal his groin. Harry's bottom was pressed to him while he drowsed, Benjamin so carefully not moving.

"Sorry, sir." Roberts strangled voice reached me, diverting me from watching Benjamin, reminding me who's erection was against my bum. "I didn't expect..." He cleared his throat, without notable success. "Not what I expected." He wheezed.


	19. Nineteen

When I woke I was the only one left in the big bed. I fumbled at the top of the beside table and found my glasses. I peered over at the clock after seating the spectacles on the end of my nose. 10 a.m.. I sat up, mild panic flooding through my veins. I never slept in so late! The office would be open, without me, clients queuing up. I wondered why Benjamin and Roberts had not wakened me. One foot rammed into my slippers, the other foot searching the floor for the errant one.

Then it hit me.

I was married. I had today off. There was nothing I had to do. I could spend the entire day with my new husband. A smile spread across my face. 

Then I remembered a little bit more.

 

Roberts' face was stricken when his eyes met mine when I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder. His face was flaming red, his body pressed to mine told me why. We lay staring at each other. I wondered what the hell to do. It was very plain he was asking himself the same.

"You can...uhm, take care of it if you like." I said in a relatively calm voice.

He looked as if I had suggested he perform nude in the public square. OK. One idea shot down. Next idea. This man was one of my best friends. He had just lain awake and listened, and probably watched Potter and me making love. He'd be here again in the future when it happened. This was not going to go away. 

'So, Mr.Malfoy,' I thought to myself. 'How are you going to handle it?' 

Miriam Destry's chirping lectures rode to the rescue. Communicate. Make it better Malfoy. Fix it. I cleared my throat.

"Benjamin. Are you in any fit state to see to Potter?" I asked, barely whispering the question. Harry was spread drowsily on top of me, warm and heavy and wonderful.

"Sir," he sounded as if he was strangling. "Yes, sir." 

Ah. So Benjamin was no better off than Tobias. But he gamely reached out and slid careful arms around Harry. 

I relinquished my hold on my new husband, and let my auror take him gently into his arms. Then I bravely turned back to Roberts. One problem at a time. 

"Tobias." I began. Then I ran out of words. Hmmm. So much for Madam Destry's advice. Well there was more than one way to communicate. I reached out and pulled Roberts closer to me. I allowed our lips to meet, the kiss was very different from the one Harry and I had shared. I felt a rush of profound relief. Harry was special. He was The One. 

Roberts let me kiss him, and it was nice enough, affectionate, I felt the fine trembling that seized his body now that I held him in my arms. I let my hands roam his back and flank, soothing him as I brought our bodies nearer. At that point instinct began to overwhelm Roberts' embarrassment. We moved together, he faster than I.

I held his face to my shoulder, his breath coming harsh onto my bare skin, his moans cutting through my satiation, reviving my own arousal. I let one hand wander down to cup his powerful buttocks. Different, very different from the far more delicate frame of Harry's body, but good. Hmmm. 

My hand wandered to his groin, into his elastic waisted pants. His erection was large, hot, heavy. His response was a half voiced cry smothered against my collar bone, predicated by a sharp, but painless bite. I moved my hand, stroking him. His hand came to rest on top of my own renewed erection. He cupped my testicles, ran his palm over my stiffness. Good. Oh, yes.

I touched him, stroked him, and tried not to think too hard. Was this going to be OK? I heard his moans, panted against my ear, felt the hot breath gust out on my cheek. He let out a keening cry. And that was all he needed. He soaked the front of his pants and my hand, I felt the pulsing jets against my palm. I held him, comforting him, letting his breathing ease, return to normal.

I jumped when I felt the body move up behind me. Bodies. One was small, one large. Benjamin's big hands, and Potter's smaller ones. They grabbed hold of me, Harry crawling up my back until he was wrapped around me, not unlike an octopus. His nose rubbed my ear.

"Lucius." He breathed, "Oh, Luc. I love you. Don't stop. Please don't stop." Harry pushed tighter against my back, he was fully hard. The small whimper in his voice did things to me, thrilled through me, my hand convulsed on Roberts, who had already spent. He hissed at the too intense stimulation and I moved my hand away.

Benjamin's murmur didn't carry as far as my ears. Harry gave a panted response. He turned and faced Benjamin. Harry's back pressed full length along my side. I knew it when he wrapped himself around Benjamin, and began to kiss him, small kisses. I heard the wet joining and parting of their lips.

"It's alright, Benji." Harry said. One of the times he pulled away. I reached out a lazy hand and laid it over his hip. He was moving, sliding tightly, rubbing Benjamin's arousal against his belly.

Just the sound of his voice, the unsteady heat in it, drove me on, I was not uncertain any longer. I pushed until Roberts was over on his back and behind me and I turned to face Harry. Harry's hand stole up to grasp a handful of Benjamin's dark hair. He kissed him, deep and strong. He pulled back, as I traced their mouths with the very tips of my fingers. Harry sucked them into the wet heat of his mouth. Teased them with his agile tongue.

Benjamin appeared over his shoulder, and Harry tilted his head back, dropping his kisses to the bigger man's throat, closing his eyes. The long line of his strong throat sent another thrill through me. The sound that he let out was far beyond the sight of him. My body surged, Benjamin cried out.

Harry rode Benjamin's body, quick and hard. Harry had two handfuls of his hair, and his face buried between Benjamin's shoulder and neck, at the point they joined. Benjamin's head was arched back, laying on the pillow behind him, and Harry was sucking the exposed flesh. I buried my face in the back of Harry's neck. He was nibbling and licking Benji, his body heaving rhythmically against the older man. Harry was moaning and Benjamin was crying out. 

"Oh, oh." And he stiffened, while Harry purred.

 

Now it was morning.

When I convinced myself there was no way I could stay in the bedroom any longer despite my sudden and profound shyness, I got up and wandered into the kitchen. I dreaded seeing my aurors, what would they think after last night? My feet wanted to drag, but I was a Malfoy, and I forced myself to walk as briskly as I normally would.

I saw Benjamin first, he was at the counter, in perfectly pressed trousers, white shirt, highly polished shoes, and his crisp pink, liberally ruffled apron. He glanced up and met my eyes without flinching, his face lighting up. He smiled, and poured a cup of tea from the brewing pot. I took my usual seat and let him serve me.

"Good morning, sir." Tobias greeted me, spooning oatmeal. He seemed calm and so very normal. His hair was still wet, slicked back, his tie loose around his neck, waiting until after breakfast to be tied. Benjamin set the tea in front of me, prepared as perfectly as it was everyday. He set another bowl of oats, sliced bananas and raisins in front of me. Brown sugar sprinkled the top and cream floated around the whorls. My mouth began to water.

Harry bounced in waving a copy of Witches' Weekly. He kissed my cheek. I felt warm all over, and a silly grin decorated my face.

"Luc, you have to read this!" He giggled, setting the rag down in front of me pointing gleefully. I peered at it through my glasses. He tapped the front page story, above the fold. "Right here!"

It was the exclusive story of our wedding. I skimmed the first paragraph then slowed down. I didn't recall any of the events happening quite like that. I finished the story, humphing through it, and was about to set it aside, when Harry picked it up unfolded it and spread it flat. He tapped the lower half of the front page. His face was beaming with a wicked glee.

I turned my attention with difficulty from his lovely face to the paper.

"HARRY POTTER AND LUCIUS MALFOY TO BE SPOKESMEN FOR PEACE TREATY"

I frowned. The second story was worse than the header. I frowned harder. Harry laughed. I looked up, and around at the men in the kitchen. Benjamin rewarmed my tea, nudged the dish of fresh lemon wedges nearer. Roberts leaned back in his chair, relaxed, hands folded on his belly, stretching out his long legs. Our feet, each clad in our slippers, tangled in each others, perfectly comfortably, skin brushing skin at our ankles. I stirred my oatmeal. It struck me that though things had changed, the important things were still the same. 

I crossed my ankles, toes half inside one of Roberts' slippers, returned to the preposterous tale,  
and happily sipped my tea. Harry's nimble toes ran lazily up the back of my calf. I was humming. Utterly content. 

End


End file.
